In Another Life
by JustSaraNoH
Summary: Steve Rogers, elementary school art teacher, fell asleep next to his new husband, Bucky. When he wakes up, he's in bed with a pregnant Natasha Romanoff. And he's apparently a superhero. He's not sure which one of those is more terrifying.


**NOTES:** What do you do when you have two AUs? Clearly you have a crossover. This came to be after a series of tumblr prompts. Thank you to those who requested it and pushed me to finish it.

This takes place in the current spot of Year 2, and a little into the future of First Duty. There is a minor spoiler for First Duty. It will be a stand alone that will more than likely not be mentioned in the other stories. Just something that could've happened.

* * *

Natasha was used to Steve jolting awake in bed, but not so much that he fell completely off the mattress. "Will you calm down?" she mumbled into her pillow. "You're going to wake her up. Get back in bed."

"Where are my clothes?" Steve demanded.

"In the hamper, neat freak. I swear your idea of down and dirty sex is leaving our clothes on the floor all night long." She rolled over as best she could, determined to keep her eyes closed and not forfeit whatever sleep she could attain on this Saturday morning. She heard a small gasp and the sound of a hand clapping over some part of Steve's body.

"Can you please cover your breasts?"

"You couldn't keep your mouth off of them five hours ago."

"Natasha, please."

There was an unfamiliar tone in his voice, and it took her a split second to recognize it as fear. During a battle or two, when things'd looked really grim, she'd heard him talk like that. Like when he begged her to run away from drones when she was pregnant with Nadia. But even with all they'd gone through the last few months, he'd never used that scared tone with her.

She opened her eyes to find him standing with one hand protecting his modesty—like she hadn't seen it before—and the other clamped over his eyes. Mockery fell dead on her tongue when her eyes flicked down to his chest and spotted new marks there. Steve couldn't scar, and he certainly didn't have multiple spots on his torso that looked like…

Before she could even fully process what the scars implied, instinct took over and she grabbed for the weapon on the nightstand. Steve peeked through his fingers to see it pointed at him, gulped a cry, and further curled in on himself.

"Please don't," he begged. "Please, I just— Where's Bucky?"

The two words caused Natasha's blood to freeze, but her aim never wavered. "Who are you?"

"Steve. Steve Rogers."

"Where are you from?"

"Not here," he answered. His breaths were coming at a rapid rate, and part of Natasha's mind recalled the stories her husband—not this man—had told her about his asthma attacks. And while this version of him wasn't quite as muscular, he didn't look the type to suffer from respiratory issues.

"What's the last thing you remember?" she asked.

"I was in bed with Bucky. We'd just… finished , and I fell asleep. And then I woke up in bed with you."

So he did the full body flush in all the universes, Natasha thought. Before she could demand more details from him, JARVIS's voice interrupted.

"Pardon me, Agent Romanoff, but young Nadia has awoken. Shall I keep her occupied in her room?"

"Please," Natasha replied. "And tell Stark we've got a… whatever his stupid secret code word is for when someone from an alternate universe appears."

"Sir prefers the term Sliders, in reference to a television—"

"Thanks, JARVIS," Natasha said in order to shut up the AI.

"Stark's here?" Steve questioned, his face moving from terrified to confused.

Natasha opened her mouth to answer, but immediately closed it. Whenever they reviewed the overly scientific scenarios in team meetings, her mind tended to wander, and she wasn't entirely sure what the protocol was on this kind of thing.

She was fairly certain he wouldn't attack her. Honestly, she was shocked there wasn't a puddle on the floor from when she'd initially pulled the gun. Slowly, she put it back on the nightstand. She then pulled the sheet tightly around her and padded to the bathroom. While she normally wouldn't have cared if this version of Steve saw her naked, she was sporting some extra curves that she hoped he hadn't noticed. For that reason, she grabbed Steve's bathrobe—black, fuzzy, and about fourteen sizes too big for her—and draped it around herself.

When she came back into the bedroom, Steve was still rooted in the same spot. She opened the top left dresser drawer and tossed the man a white tank top and a pair of boxer briefs. He muttered his thanks before quickly pulling them on. Natasha's perception of his not-as-broad frame was confirmed when even this Steve noticed that the undershirt hung slightly loose on his chest. Natasha wasn't sure if the look on his face was because he was impressed or slightly scared.

"Sit," she ordered, and he complied by awkwardly trying to look comfortable on the bed. Estimating how much time had elapsed since JARVIS's warning, Natasha knew they wouldn't be alone for long. "There's going to be a little girl who walks in here in a minute. Her name is Nadia, and she's going to call you Daddy." Her next words caught in her throat as she remembered the last time she'd said them and how Steve'd reacted. "You're not her father." S he watched as the man's shoulders slumped a little before a familiar, determined expression emerged.

"If she thinks I'm her dad, I don't want to—"

Natasha couldn't contain the snort that escaped her. "Steve Rogers: hopeless idiot in all universes."

Sure enough, a soft chime sounded in the air—a three-second warning for impending company—and a still-sleepy Nadia came into the room. "Can we have pancakes?" she asked around a yawn, one hand rubbing at her eye.

On instinct, the girl crawled into the bed and snuggled up next to the man who looked like her father. In seconds she was completely out, nuzzled against his thigh. "I can move her," Natasha said softly as she moved toward the bed.

Steve waved her off. "I'm actually pretty used to random kids wanting to hug my leg." It was Natasha's turn to look confused. "I'm an elementary school art teacher," the man clarified before taking another long look at his surroundings. "I'm guessing from all of this that you guys have different jobs."

Natasha grinned. "Tony's going to have a field day when he hears about this."

Steve smiled and looked down at Nadia. "She's not mine?"

"Not biologically."

He looked up and rolled his lips before his gaze slipped to her stomach. "And that one?" Natasha felt her nerves go back on edge, and Steve raised one hand in an attempt to keep her calm. "I woke up with my arm around you. My version of you, she's not… overweight, so I assumed that wasn't the cause of things."

"Technically speaking, you aren't the Steve Rogers who impregnated me, so this one isn't yours either." She was touched by the hint of disappointment on his face at her answer, but this man wasn't her husband. He didn't know what they'd gone through in the last five years. "You asked for Bucky," she nearly whispered. "How do you know him?"

"He's my husband."

Natasha couldn't quite name which emotion erupted in her first, but it was summarized in a two-word response: "The fuck?"

* * *

Natasha arranged for the McCoys to pick up Nadia for the day while this new version of Steve showered and dressed. Once she did the same thing and Nadia was gone, she called everyone to her floor for a meeting. Tony, Bruce, and Jane had already poured over readings from the Tower to see if they could pinpoint when and how this Steve arrived, but there wasn't anything conclusive.

"If you could," Phil started, "tell us everything about the people in the room. If you recognize any of us, that is."

"All of you," Steve answered. "We all work together at an elementary school. Well, not you two," he said pointing at Thor and Jane, "but your kids are our students. Thor runs the PTA."

"I am unfamiliar with this PTA realm that I rule, but the idea of children…" Thor let his words drift off while looking poignantly at his wife.

"No," she told him. "You know the timeline."

"What do we teach?" Phil asked.

Steve sighed. "What's the point?" He turned and looked at Natasha, worry evident on his face. "Where's Bucky?"

The room stilled at that question, and Steve clearly saw how they all looked at Natasha, some of them cringing while doing so. She licked her lips, trying to find the best way to break the news, but she knew there wasn't a way to do that. She'd learned that lesson already with her Steve. "James died," she said softly.

This Steve visibly paled and wobbled into a chair. "He's not here?"

"No," Natasha answered. "He's been gone for about thirty-five years."

Steve shook his head vehemently. "No, he can't— That's impossible. He's not even thirty-five now. How can he have died before he was born?"

Phil, mercifully, picked up the conversation. He explained how Steve and his best friend were born a hundred years ago and fought in World War II. He talked about how Steve was frozen in the Arctic for seventy years and wasn't discovered until six years ago.

"And Buck?"

Phil looked at Natasha, and she felt her stomach twist. She couldn't have this conversation, make this confession, again. Not so soon after the last time. "He was captured," she said finally. "He was a prisoner of war for a long time."

"What happened to him?" Steve asked, his fear becoming anger.

Phil placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "We can't discuss some of those things for security reasons. But these things—how our worlds differ—could be important to getting you back to where you belong."

Steve sat quietly for a moment, and they all ignored how he swiped at his eyes a few times while trying to get his wits about him. "You're the librarian," he finally admitted quietly to Phil. On a nearby couch, Clint snorted. Steve shot him a somewhat amused look. "And you're the fifth grade teacher married to him."

"Married?" Clint somewhat squeaked.

Steve nodded. "Just celebrated your sixth anniversary. You two are pretty inseparable. Is that not true here?"

"Everything but the wedding bells," Tony said. "Do me now."

"Technology teacher," Steve said. "Married to Pepper, who's our guidance counselor." He paused to look at their hands. "Take it that's another marriage that only exists in my version of things."

Tony hooked a thumb in Pepper's direction. "This one doesn't believe in marriage."

"There are some other things to consider, too," she said while placing a hand on Bruce's shoulder.

Natasha watched Steve's gaze flicker between Tony, Pepper, and Bruce before he put two and two together. "Ummm…" was all he could manage.

"Intimacy can mean things other than sex," Bruce commented quietly.

Steve flustered his way through an apology. "That's not what— I was just—"

"So we're not an actual triangle of love where you're from?" Tony asked.

"No," Steve answered. "You call yourself and Bruce 'brothers of science and sobriety' or something."

Tony immediately doubled over in laughter. "I'm sober?!" His laughter continued laughing for a couple of solid minutes.

Steve looked at Natasha with a somewhat pleading look on his face. "He has five bars on his floor of the Tower alone," she explained. "I'm pretty sure his blood is seventy percent martinis at this point."

"I come by it honestly," Tony argued. "Why on earth would I give up booze?"

"You woke up with some circle thing tattooed on your chest after you lost your place in your father's company," Steve answered. "Decided it was time to get your life in order."

Tony's face sobered into a serious expression. "Something like this?" he asked while lifting his shirt to show the arc reactor.

Steve's face morphed from shock into horror into a polite mask within a second. "Uh, yeah. Kind of."

"What about her?" Clint asked while pointing to Natasha.

"She teaches gym," Steve said.

"Fucking terrifying," Clint muttered. "She with anyone?"

Steve's eyes traitorously glanced at Bruce for a split second before he shrugged. "She broke up with someone, but I think they're trying to make another go of things."

Natasha and Bruce made eye contact for a second. She could understand how they would work together. Honestly, if she had to pair herself off with someone, it would probably be Bruce. There were still plenty of days where she wondered how she and Steve functioned together.

"Screw the superheroes," Darcy proclaimed. "What fabulous life am I living? Am I the meat in this sandwich of you and whoever-Bucky-is? Because I would like that to happen, and I don't even know what this guy looks like."

Steve smiled. "No, that's not the case. You work in the office, and you're dating Thor's brother."

The room went dead silent until Darcy bellowed, "I'm screwing Loki?!"

Steve looked at Natasha with a hint of a lost expression on his face. "He's okay in my universe," he said with a shrug.

"Not as good here," Natasha said.

"What'd he do?"

"Attempted genocide, brought an alien army here to conquer Earth, knocked me up. You know, the usual."

* * *

"Mama, Daddy's being weird."

Natasha rolled her lips to keep from grinning. She didn't want to devalue her daughter's concern with a smile, but even Natasha was amused at the combination of the four-year-old's scrunched up face and Nadia's slight speech impediment of turning her rs and ls into a w sound . Instead, Natasha made sure Nadia's sheets and bed cover were tightly tucked around her body. "Why do you say that, baby?"

"He said wrong things at dinner," Nadia explained. Natasha watched as she fought against her nightly mandate of being tucked in as tightly as possible to free her hands so she could tick off points. "He called Uncle Tony 'Stark,' he didn't remember about JARVIS, and he hasn't called me Bug once today. Not one time."

Natasha leaned forward and placed a kiss on her daughter's forehead. "Sometimes people are weird for a day. What do we always say about Daddy?"

"He'll be better in the morning," Nadia answered out of habit. "Promise?"

No, Natasha thought. She couldn't promise that her husband and Nadia's father would be returned in the morning, if ever. They might get stuck with a version of Steve who was an elementary school art teacher and married to Bucky. "See you in the morning," was all she said before leaving the bedroom.

She found Steve standing in the living room along the wall-long window, lost in his thoughts. She knew the expression—one of feeling abandoned and alone. Her Steve wore it often in his first days out of the ice when the team just started and could barely stand each other . "You look like you need a drink," she commented. "Unless you can't get drunk on anything other than Asgardian mead, too. Not sure we have any around here. Tony likes to hoard it for 'experiments,' whatever that means."

"I can get drunk," Steve replied. "Not sure it's the best idea, though."

Natasha shrugged. "There's vodka in the freezer if you change your mind. Someone should be able to drink it."

His eyes drifted to her stomach. "Can I ask you about that?"

"Sure," she said as she sat down in the corner of the couch. He took the opposite corner, leaning forward so his elbows rested on his thighs.

"How far along?"

"Eighteen weeks tomorrow," Natasha answered.

"Boy or girl?" he asked.

"Boy. No name picked out yet. That's Steve's job. I told him after we had Nadia that if we had a second, he'd get to name it. At the time, I thought having another one was impossible."

Steve nodded. "Bucky wants kids. Pretty sure he already has all their names picked out." He paused to look at her. "Did your Bucky ever… Was that—"

"He never got the chance," Natasha said. "There was the war, and then—"

"Yeah," Steve finished for he r. He rose from the couch with a shaky huff of air and began to pace. "I need to go home," he said after a few minutes.

"I know. Jane, Tony and Bruce are trying, I promise," she said quietly, trying to decide how best to distract him. "You said Bucky was crazy about kids. What about you?"

His pacing slowed slightly as he considered the question. "I don't know. I work with kids all the time, and really I thought that would've been enough, but Bucky is pretty adamant about having them and about me being the dad."

"And you're not a fan of the idea?"

Steve shrugged. "I was sick as a kid. I don't want to pass that on."

Natasha felt herself smile slightly. "So was my Steve, and he was terrified of the same thing. Even worried that he could somehow cause Nadia to be sick when she was a baby just by being around her."

"Can I ask how that whole thing worked?" Steve asked. "With Loki and whatever."

"He showed up one night when we were all watching a movie. Released some… thing. Like a smoke bomb. Granted us our greatest wish or nightmare. Honestly, some days I'm not sure which category Nadia falls under , but it made me pregnant with a clone of myself. Without some bioenhancements."

"Bioenhancements?" Steve questioned.

"My husband isn't the only one who's older than he looks. I age at a very slow rate, heal quickly, and some other things. But infertility is a side effect."

"I'm sorry," he apologized.

"We clearly found ways around it," Natasha said, resting one hand on her stomach.

"Is he a good dad?" Steve asked.

Natasha nodded. "Better than I could've ever dreamed, and certainly more than I deserve. Pretty sure you'd be the same way if you gave it a shot."

Steve shook his head. "You are nothing like the Natasha I know."

"I have a feeling I know what she's like, and it's much easier existing that way. Be patient with her."

They spent the next few hours watching a movie and sharing some popcorn, something she'd done with Steve for what felt like thousands of times, but it was still different tonight. The stranger on the couch with her wasn't the only one who desperately hoped Jane, Tony, and Bruce found a solution—and quickly.

Natasha tried her best to hide her yawns, but Steve caught on. "I can sleep out here if you want," he offered.

She shook her head. "You probably want to be in the same spot you were when you arrived. Just keep your fingers crossed we won't have to have sex to get you back." Steve's eyes bulged slightly, but he still followed her to the bedroom.

Natasha wasn't sure how long it was before she fell asleep, her mind abuzz with contingency plans if her husband couldn't get back to her. But when she woke, the sun was cresting the horizon and the bedroom was filled with pink light. Mind still hazy, she rolled over to her other side and froze when she spotted Steve. Her Steve. His chest, back to its broader size and free of scars, rose and fell slowly. He stared at the ceiling, mouth tight and tears falling from the corner of his eyes, down his temples, and into his hairline. " You okay?" she asked quietly.

"I thought I knew how much I missed him, how deep it was, but I was wrong," he answered. He rolled over on his side to face her and offered her a weak grin. "But he's out there somewhere still. And he's happy and whole. Just glad I got to see him one more time."


End file.
